Page 15 of Crashing Into You

Instead, I agree to go to her house.

ChapterEight

Claire

What the hell am I doing?

I should just say my farewells to Bryce, and then we should go our separate ways. A story to tell about the time a famous surfer pretended to be my boyfriend, then took me swimming.

But there was something in his eyes as he held me in the water, a sort of yearning as he gazed up at my home on the cliff. And something stirred in me, beyond the arousal I felt with my legs locked around him and his arms around me. Something deeper– a warmth like I felt last night when he stepped in to protect me from Simon.

I don’t want this to be the last time I see him.

So I invite him up to see the house. I’m shocked when I do it, and even more shocked when he says yes.

He follows me, his board strapped to the roof of his car, as we drive the short distance along the coast road to my driveway. As we both pull up to the back of the house, my heart is pounding. I’m being ridiculous. He might kiss me again, but it won’t mean anything. I’ll just be another one in the long line of girls he’s been with.

So why the fuck do I want that?

I don’t, really. But I do want him. It’s a strange feeling, like a sort of flame burning in me. I liked Simon. I even thought I loved him for a while, thought he was handsome. But he pales into nothing next to the heat of Bryce Maylands.

He’s already out of his car. He got changed at the beach, peeling off his wetsuit while I tried not to look, shimmying into shorts and pulling a sweatshirt over his chest and abs, which are even more ridiculously perfect than in his photograph. Now he’s standing with his hands on his hips, his damp hair tousled, gazing up at the gum trees. There are a few cockatoos up there, shrieking and flapping the way they usually do. He watches them for a few moments, a smile on his face. I watch him too, then blush when he catches me staring. I get out of the car.

“This place is awesome,” he says. “Can I?” He jerks his head towards the edge of the deck, the blue glimmer of the pool visible around the side of the house.

“Go for it.” Excitement curls in my stomach. I try to ignore it. “I’ll meet you inside.”

Bryce heads off towards the deck. I go to the back door, which is huge and made of timber, pivoting on a single point to open. My parents were so thrilled by the architect’s design, the way such a heavy piece could move so smoothly, and I think of them every time I use it.

But when I get to the door, I stop dead, my good mood sliding away. There’s a bunch of flowers there, lilies and banksia, green-blue stems of eucalyptus leaves, all tied with a ribbon. And a note. I pick them both up as though they’re a snake about to bite me. I know who the gift is from.

Fucking Simon. He must have climbed up the cliff path. I really need to get it gated properly. I walk around the side of the house, to the deck. Bryce is leaning against the railing, staring out at the view. He starts when I go past him, flinging the flowers over the edge. I know it’s a waste, but I don’t want the flowers in my house, don’t want anything Simon touched near me. The note I crumple up and put in the copper firepit.

“Everything okay?”

“Just clearing some stuff out.” But I’m shaken by how close Simon can get to me still, despite all the measures I’ve taken to keep him away.

Bryce goes over to the unlit firepit and pulls out the crumpled note. “D’you mind?” He looks over at me, one eyebrow raised.

I wrap my arms around myself. “Go for it.”

He opens the note and reads it. His expression darkens. “That guy really is a dickhead.”

“Yep.”

He crumples the note again, dropping it in the firepit. Then he takes a match from the pack on the nearby table, lighting it, and sets fire to the note.

We both watch it burn.

“Did you say something about coffee?”

He comes closer, smiling at me, and it’s like the sun coming out. Again there’s that throb of anticipation, Simon and his bullshit antics dissipating like smoke.

“Oh, yes! Hang on a sec.” The sliding doors are locked so I go around to the back again, letting myself in. Once inside I hastily fill the kettle and turn it on, then quickly tidy away my breakfast dishes, casting an eye over the huge open plan living area. God, I hope I haven’t left anything embarrassing out.

But Bryce is already at the sliding doors, hands cupped around his eyes as he looks in at me. I can’t leave him out there. I run over and open the huge doors, pushing them back, letting in the fresh air and sound of the sea. And Bryce.

“This place is stunning,” he says. “Like, totally beautiful. Look at that view. And the craftmanship on these doors.” He runs his hand down them, looking up. “I can see the love in this place.” His voice is soft. “And why it would be so special to you.”